


Many, Many Christmases

by okayokayigive



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayokayigive/pseuds/okayokayigive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven Christmases. Six, really, was the important number. Six Christmases since he’d kissed her, and his world snapped into place, clear and bright as a guiding star. 9/Rose and 10/Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many, Many Christmases

**Author's Note:**

> A trope prompt for [Riley](http://rudeandginger91.tumblr.com/) and [Kinnakee](http://kinnakee.tumblr.com/), who requested 9/Rose mistletoe kiss and 10/Rose mistletoe kiss, respectively.

It’s their second Christmas together, in the space of only a few months. Time travel could be like that sometimes, she supposes. Rose isn’t always sure of this new life - the travel, the aliens, the new planets, the Doctor…and sometimes, when he looks at her? She feels like she might just float away, off into the stars.

Like now. Like right now. With that smile, and those blue eyes shining just as bright as any holiday lights. Eyes looking right at her.

–

He wants to show her everything - planets new and dying, moments past and moments yet to come. He wants to show her things long gone, things deeply hidden, things inside himself that he thinks he might have forgotten if she hadn’t come along and saved him.

But sometimes, he just wants to show her that he understands. Her humanness, her traditions, her world. He might not belong there, might not get to stay, but he can at least pretend.

He looks at the mistletoe above their heads, and thanks the stars for silly human tradition as he leans in and kisses her for the very first time.

–

She thinks this is probably their seventh Christmas together, but she’s been losing track. She’s more interested in her new, new Doctor, in watching his muscles move (okay, his bum) as he bends over the console to retrieve a wayward bit of tinsel. Christmases had become special to them since that one moment, that first bit of mistletoe - a way to say “I’m sorry” or “I need you” or sometimes “it’s Tuesday”.

She wasn’t sure what the reason was today, and she didn’t much care when he turned and smiled at her like that. A smile so different from her first Doctor - goofier, more playful, a little less broken, a little more alive…and, most days, a whole lot more heat.

–

Seven Christmases. He wonders if she knows. Six, really, was the important number. Six Christmases since he’d kissed her - and she’d kissed him right back. Six Christmases since his world snapped into place, clear and bright as a guiding star.

He reached behind him and grabbed his specially-ornamented Santa Hat. Covered in mistletoe, so he would have an excuse to kiss her every moment she drew near. Every second of every day.

–

As she found out much later, he had mistletoe printed on his boxers, too.


End file.
